A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip to Romewith her husband.. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:

" Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty. You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"

"We're taking Qantas," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"

"Qantas ?" exclaimed the hairdresser. " That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late. So, where are you staying in Rome ?"

"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome 's Tiber River called Teste."

"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks its gonna’ besomething special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."

"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."

"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. “You and a million other peopletrying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant.”

"Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser askedher about her trip to Rome .

"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Qantas's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.”

“And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job,and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their Presidential Suite at no extra charge!"

"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know youdidn't get to see the Pope."

"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a SwissGuard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meetsome of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.”

“Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me…"

"Oh, really! What'd he say?"

He said: "Who crappity smacked up your hair?"

Says the guy who "lost his shit after January 20, 2009."(Or, am I the “guy who shit his pants on 9/11 and spent the entire GWOT behind the safety of his monitor”? I can never remember.)

"He was born with the gift of laughter and the sense that the world was mad."